Best Years
by Kratos Wilder
Summary: Living in pain and fear all your life can bring you to wonder...what was life like before everything went wrong? Those are the best years of his life, but someone has to tell him about them.


I thought of this this morning...sitting in a small classroom and I pondered it when I came home. What would be the best years of my life? Well...here is Lloyd's, just because it went well with what I wanted to do. Also, this is after he finds out what really happened to Anna, perhaps that night when he made Colette's present. I hope it turned out good! Oh...this is Lloyd's POV until the italicized part...which is text. Hope you don't get confused!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales, plain and simple!**

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**Best Years**

Living in pain and fear all your life, trying to figure out what happened so long ago to your life, can bring people to wonder, what was life like back when I _had_ a life? People tend to forget about the good parts and memories as they are consumed by that fear and anger, and sometimes guilt. It's just a part of life; it was never meant to be easy. The good memories last for a while, but the heartaches last forever. People often ask me what happened to my life, why am I so happy all the time when I have nothing? If they only knew who I really was, they would know, I am not who they make me out to be.

Life has been rough for me ever since I was three, even before that. My life was flipped upside down, never to get back on the right track again. My family, my father, my mother, gone…I have yet to see them. Sometimes I wonder how much happier life would be if I just gave up and died. I miss them so much, more than they probably even know. Dirk, being the man who raised me as a son, was the only family I have ever known, along with Noishe, my pet. Had it not been for his love and Noishe's energy, I don't know where I would be to this day.

To relieve my stress, my anger, and even my sorrow, I would often come home from school and talk to my Dad…Dirk. It killed me that I had to call him that, but it made me feel like there was hope…hope that one day, my real father would show up, calling me by name and taking me away from my suffering I had been feeling since I found out what happened to them. I would often look at the stars, remembering me and my father spending countless nights gazing them. I smiled at that thought, one I got often, but I was brought back to reality when I knew it wouldn't happen again. I would walk up to my room, a small place that Dirk had made for me out of the kindness of his own heart, and sit down on the bed. Under my bed was a sacred book I often was found reading to ease the pain. The only thing bad about it was the fact I didn't know any names. Dirk gave it to me when I was old enough to read as a birthday present. I thanked him and ever since, I have been reading the same pages over and over again. I reached under my bed and pulled out a small book that my mother had used to write stuff about me and Dad. I could only use her hints to picture my father, but never once did the image come in clear. I took a deep breath and turned to the pages I looked over all the time and began to read:

_He stood up, only to fall back down. I couldn't contain my laughter as he got back up and tried again. Lloyd was trying to walk over to his toys on the other side of the room. It would have been easier if he would have crawled, but he was determined to show me that he could walk like a big boy would. Once again, he stood up on his legs and walked for a second and his small legs gave in and he fell on his face. He didn't move for a while until he lifted his head, crying for failing at such an easy task. He believed he could do it if his father and I could. However, it seemed he had truly given up this time; he did not stand back up. He cried into the floor. He sat up and looked over at me; his dark brown eyes reminded me so much of his father. I stood up and walked over to him, kneeling down beside him. I knew he wanted to be held; he always did when he felt down and upset, especially after attempting to walk. However, he did not want to be held and I watched for the third time as my son stood up and tried to walk again. I offered a hand to help for balance, but he never took it. I sat on the floor and watched as he attempted to walk…and fell again._

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_It was Lloyd's second birthday and he was the happiest kid on the earth. He had been running around all day reminding me that it was his birthday. What I would have given to have been as happy as he was. His father…he was still gone; he had been for the last month, running some stupid errand for that stupid leader of his. We never had enough money for Lloyd to have a nice birthday, but he never seemed to care, as long as there was his father. He loved that man more than anything else in the world. He had been dying to get his presents all day, but more importantly, he wanted his father. As every second, minute, hour passed away, I grew angry with him. Why would he miss his own son's birthday? Knowing him, he forgot, like he usually did mine. His son however, was no excuse._

_It was beginning to get late and Lloyd had his face pressed against the window, hoping at any moment, his father would walk through that door. He never did. I had to tell Lloyd myself that he wasn't coming home tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, but it was already eleven and he was tired. The look in his eyes told me that. I lifted him off the windowsill and carried him to his room down the hall. When I put him down, I heard some footsteps in the hallway. Lloyd smiled and threw off his covers to go meet the man standing in the doorway, his father. Inside, I was extremely upset that he almost forgot about his son, but looking at the two softened my heart in a way nothing else has done before. Lloyd was happy, and just before he went to bed he thanked me; I gave him the best present he could ever have…his father._

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_Most people love their children and would do anything to help and save them from the vile world, but there came a time when I questioned myself why I was stupid enough to have this child. Of course, everyone had their own problems with their children, but Lloyd was one of a kind. He was three, one of the worst years of any child's life. I had to admit, two was a little worse, but it hadn't decreased greatly. Perhaps it was because he hardly saw his father anymore; he was too busy running errands to talk to us. He would go around the house, pulling everything from the shelves and breaking everything else. Never once have I had a problem with him until now. He was beginning to learn how to form sentences and argue back, yelling at me when he didn't get his way. I felt like I was punishing him for everything he did now, which was a true statement. Every action led to him going to his room or sitting down until he knew how to behave. After a few months of work, his father returned home for a few months before he had to leave again. Lloyd seemed to shape up immediately. He must have been intimidated by the man he hadn't seen in a while. However, in the next few days, he was back to normal. As my husband tried to concentrate on his work, Lloyd would often scream at the top of his lungs and then turn and run from his angry father. He never seemed to get his work done, but I didn't care. His son was happening now; he could worry about his work later._

_It was time for Lloyd to get ready for bed, but he refused. He wanted to stay up just like his father and I always did. I couldn't say anything to that, so the next minute he was running around the house again, acting like he had the largest sugar rush he could have ever had. I thanked my husband for taking him outside and doing whatever he did to bring him back asleep in his arms. I smiled at the two, my family, my heart's one joy and sole happiness. Without them, I don't know where I would be. _

_However, all good times must come to an end at some point. Kvar…he was the one that would eventually destroy this family. We ran like we had been doing for the past five years and got out of his grasp, but the time would come that he would catch us…catch me. Every night as I watch my family play, talk, or even sleep at night, I wonder why I brought them into this situation. Neither one needed to be here, running from a man who wanted me and me only. I would have killed myself if I knew that any one of them had been killed by Kvar…or when the time came for my Exsphere to be taken back, when he got it back…or myself. I seemed to forget all my worries when I looked at my family and looking back on the five years with my husband and three years with my son, I couldn't have been happier. Even on the run, both of them treated each moment like their last, the way anyone would want to spend their last days, with the ones they love and full of happiness and love for each other. They are a constant reminder of my happiness when I am in need of it. I love them, more than any number or word can explain, and I want them to be happy for the rest of their lives. I am fearing the worst for my own; Kvar is somewhere around us, hungry for the project I ran away with. Looking at my husband, sleeping and holding his sleeping son on his body, I know that if the worst shall happen soon, Lloyd will have him. If I could have only brought them into a better situation, I might have been able to show them exactly how much I love them._

Never once have I been so emotionally struck and ripped apart then after reading those entries my mother wrote about me. Tears constantly flowed from my eyes and onto the paper, staining and leaving a mark next to another that had been previously put there from days before. I closed the book, holding it close to my heart, knowing that the end of that book was the day before everything went wrong. The comfort I needed was in the small Exsphere, the only thing other than this journal I had to remember my mother. I fall back on my bed, looking up at the ceiling like I did after I read those pages. Nothing seemed to comfort me more than knowing that my mother loved me…and died doing so as well.

Those years before the separation from my family must have been the best three years of my life...

…And I don't remember any of it.

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I have to say this...the first part of the reading Lloyd did was when he was one, the next was two, and the last was three, up till the last night. Hopefully, I didn't confuse anyone. Oh, and I do know that the 1st person POV for Lloyd might have been too smart for him, but...act like he is smart. He deserves it! 


End file.
